If You Don't, Then Don't
by siren of titan
Summary: AU story, starts at x-mas break/ HBP. If Hermione ended up at the weasley's over break and the kids get left home alone-just blame fred & george! ...ch 7 up! and now edited! WIP ---please review!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is an AU story, starting the Christmas break of HBP. Hermione ends up staying with the Weasley family for part of the break because her father gets the chicken pox and she never had them either. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have to leave after Aunt Muriel hurts herself and ask (wearily) Fred and George to watch them while they're gone. The boys decide to liven things up a bit…have fun reading it and please leave a review of some sort, thanks!**

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"We'll keep the little lambs in line."

"More watchful than Moody's eye, we'll be."

Mrs. Weasley gave the twins an apprehensive look. The tone in their voices making her rethink her plans to leave.

"You know Fred, I don't think the woman has any faith in us at all. And after asking us to give up our weekend to babysit this bunch, as though we don't have social lives of our own to keep up on."

"Yes. Yes. For shame. Now chivvy along mummy dearest or Auntie Muriel might break another hip," George jested, helping her with her coat.

"Now boys, we both appreciate your help. We know we will come back to a house that is just as sound—" Mr. Weasley told them, giving them a firm squeeze on each of their shoulders.

"That means still standing," Mrs. Weasley added, kissing them on the cheek.

"See you in two days," said Mr. Weasley, almost warningly.

"Toodles," the boys said together.

After wishing their parents a farewell the two traveled back into the family room, with horrorstruck faces for the sad sight they saw before them; Ron and Harry sat near the twinkling Christmas tree, while Ginny messed about with one of her presents. Near the fireplace Hermione was curled up with a book, ignoring the game of Wizards Chess and all of Ron's not so subtle glances her way.

"Knees up, kiddies. Mum and dad have been gone a whole five seconds, what are you still doing sitting there like a bunch of nesh whipped sacks?" asked Fred in mock outrage. The gang glanced up, eyeing the brother's with the same look of apprehension Mrs. Weasley wore before she left.

"I told mum she should have just left us here alone. These two in charge of anything…just because they haven't blown up the joke shop, doesn't mean they aren't completely incompetent." He turned his attention to them both, addressing them hotly. "We've been home without parent supervision for the first time in our lifetimes and you want to have a party? Are you mental?"

"Oh, put a sock in it, Ronnikins. Mum and dad will never be the wiser and this lot looks like they could use a good time," George said, surveying the sad group before him. "When did you become the king of morality?"

Ron understood, as he watched his brothers mockingly bow down to him a few times, snickering, if he were to put up anymore of a fight they would tease him mercilessly for it, so he quickly became tight lipped. And it wasn't like he was opposed to a party, just the getting in trouble part. If anything were to go wrong those two would have to take the fall he rationalized, watching the two run about, getting the Burrow 'party ready'. Then they got out a large trunk and opened it up to reveal that it was filled to the brim with interesting looking clothes. Fred pulled out a sparkling number and tossed it at Ginny and then one to Hermione.

"Our parties are nothing if not classy. We thought a throw-back 1920's party would shake things up a bit," said George, still rummaging through the trunk.

"I think everyone could use a good night of drunken debauchery and a morning of regretful decisions they will barely register if they remember them at all," Ron heard Fred or George explain, as he watched Hermione follow Ginny up to her room.

"You two better get cleaned up as well if you want a certain totty to take notice and talk to you—"

"Again…Finally," Fred added for emphasis, getting across to Ron just who he should be trying to impress.

Ron decided to take his brothers' advice and put some effort into looking presentable. Though he wasn't sure if Hermione would stick around for the party or hideaway in Ginny's room all night.

*

"Blimey, you two! We may have to keep you locked up in Ginny's room for the night," George whistled and exclaimed sweetly as the two girls came back down, already changed. "If any guy tries anything, they'll have to deal with us."

"Hermione, I may as well apologize now for anything I saw or do later under the influence of firewhiskey," Fred winked. Hermione just gave him a shy smile and rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, I'll probably head to bed early tonight, so you probably won't get a chance to offend me," she joked.

"Oh, what a shame."

"Unacceptable, really."

"You really should stick around. We promise a night you'll never forget."

"But will because it's that good."

"Right and a bit of mischief is good for everyone. Keeps things on an even keel, eh?" Fred suggested. Ron's ears were burning a little now, not liking how friendly his brothers were being with her or the idea of other guys surrounding Hermione tonight, especially with her in that dress.

"Hermione isn't big on _your_ type of parties. Besides, she probably has some studying she wants to get to before break is over. Don't try to bring her down to your level of indecency. Hermione isn't like that," Ron said, thinking he was only helping. The sharp look she gave him and the words that followed made him realize his error.

"And just what is that suppose to mean? You don't think I know how to have a bit of fun? Oh, that Hermione, always in a book. I can hold my own, thank you very much."

"I just meant…you don't have to feel like you need to come down to the party if you don't want to…no one will think less of you…"

"I will," both Fred and George said at once.

"You have to stay," Ginny told her. Harry just gave Ron a sympathetic look and stayed out of it.

"I'll be there. Even if Ron wishes for me to stay away—"

"Oh! That's not what I meant at all. You're twisting my words…"

"I'm sorry if my presence here is a hindrance on your life, but it wasn't like I could tell your mum no thank you after my mum asked if it was alright. What are the odds my father would get the chicken pox at his age? I suppose you wish I had stayed at home and got infected as well. Would that make you happy?"

"Hermione, I'm not…I never…I'm really glad you're here." Everyone averted their eyes as soon as the row between Ron and Hermione abruptly ended. Hermione's eyes darted around the room, realizing her outburst, trying to gage everyone's reactions.

"Come on, Hermione, lets finish getting ready," Ginny told her, pulling on her arm, attempting to alleviate the situation.

******

Ch. 2 coming soon


	2. Chapter 2

"Why did you guys have to get her started? She was already mad at me enough," said Ron as soon as the girls were out of ear shot.

"You want to keep the little lass from having any fun and we can't have that, Ronny. Imagine Fred, if Ron got his way, Hermione would stay upstairs the whole night, while everyone else carries on down here having a ball."

"We can't let him rob her of this injustice."

"I for one would like to get a look at that dress again."

"Yes, that green number was a good choice. And I am anxious to see how our little miss perfect acts after a few rounds, as well."

"Oh no! You two are not going to get Hermione plastered. She's…she's…"

"Delicate?" Fred asked.

"A delicate flower…pure… innocent," George added mockingly, "we get it."

"Which is sort of the point," said Fred.

"Actually, Ron kind of has a point. This is Hermione we're talking about. She thinks an eventful Friday night is genning up on Ancient Ruins or Potions Class," Harry finally spoke up.

"We'll take good care of her," said George.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Ron mumbled, eyeing his grinning older brother.

"Just because you fancy her, you want her all to yourself—"

"I do not fancy her! I just don't want to see her getting taken advantage of with you two corrupting everyone. Something could happen," Ron shouted.

"Ooo— temper temper. It seems that someone is overreacting just a bit. I get your game now. Just because Hermione won't be cozying up to you tonight, you don't want her cozying up with some other bloke," Fred exclaimed.

"Not Bloody likely though. Did you see her wear that dress. Fellas will be all over her, but like I said, I will be the gracious host and entertain Hermione tonight if you're nervous about some other git getting in your way. Get her to loosen up a bit—" George teased until Ron Lunged toward him. Fred came over and helped George remove Ron.

"That's what we thought." The twins said simultaneously, grinning and fixing their getups.

Hermione's ears burned from the other side of the door, listening in on the boys' conversation and growing more work up with every comment. I'll show them, she thought clicking her tongue and sneaking upstairs to where Ginny waited for her.

"Although, I'd bet 10 million galleons that Hermione is not as sweet and naïve as you two are acting. She's a pistol, that one."

"A real firecracker," interjected George.

" The way she gets worked up when she's giving it to Ron. Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about," demanded Fred.

"I wouldn't mind her _giving it_ to me now that you mention it," crooned George and Ron once again was on the attack. Both twins held him down, taunting him. "Just tell us you fancy her and we'll leave her alone," said George.

"Fine! Fine! I fancy her, all right!" He yelled, then realizing his volume whispered, "But she hasn't said more than two words to me since she got here, aside from our little row just now, so there's not much I can do."

"Well you could ditch Lavender."

"It would be a start," added Fred, as both twins let him go.

"It _**is**_done between us. Ended things just before coming home," Ron informed them.

"You did? Why didn't you say something?" Harry asked.

"I dunno. I guess I just felt lousy about it. She wasn't very happy when I told her."

"At least you didn't do it through an owl, like Robbie Durden," joked George.

*

Ron's jaw dropped wide as Hermione came back into the room. Was it his imagination or was Hermione's dress significantly shorter from when she first left wearing it? He quickly covered his gaping stare and slacked jaw by throwing back a shot of Firewhiskey. Hermione walked purposefully past Ron, greeting the first few to arrive at the Burrow. Her dress was in fact shorter. After Her fight with Ron and overhearing the boys' opinions of her, she wanted to show them all that there was more to her than books and hard work. She had a wild side too. She was adventurous and strong. She was ballsy and fierce. How could they not see that after everything they had been through and all she had done? No matter what they couldn't get past that one part of her_. And I can cut loose as good as any of them_, she huffed to herself. It was at that point she took her wand and made a few alterations on her outfit. Tonight she was going to show them.

Ron pretended like he didn't see the wink Fred shot him after walking away from Hermione, where he flirted shamelessly for a second; just enough time to work Ron up a bit. In his mind he tried to think of ways to keep his fellow classmates and friends away from Hermione. After a few minutes of deep contemplation that resulted in zero good ideas, his attention was pulled toward her as he watched her pour a shot down her throat and take the drink handed to her by some miserable overeager prat, who Hermione giggled at. The Burrow was pretty full of people, even for the Burrow's standards and Ron was afraid of losing Hermione through the crowd, so he edged his way closer.

"I think you should slow down. What exactly are you trying to prove?" he couldn't help ask her, grabbing her hand as she went to take another shot. Hermione shrugged him off.

"Perhaps, that even a _delicate flower_ can still hang with the dirty weeds that surround her," she said pointedly and then swallowed her drink in one take.

"You heard us? Then you heard—" he asked nervously, wondering if she caught the part where he told them he fancied her. "Then you know about Lavender?" he asked, using the question to decipher how much she heard.

"What? She couldn't make it tonight. I don't see her here, so what was her excuse?"

"No, I mean about how we broke up…"

"You what?!"

"Before break…I guess you missed that part. Well, you shouldn't eavesdrop anyways," He said, trying to turn the tables on her before she could come up with another reason to be angry with him.

"Umm—You should stop Eddie before he breaks that," Hermione told him, completely changing the subject as she watched Eddie, a 7th year, juggle some dishware to impress a couple giggling girls.

"Oy! Hey there! Put that down. Mum will murder us if we break her good glassware." He was running over to the scene, trying to catch the plates before they hit the floor.

"Hermione! I don't see you on the dance floor," a familiar voice shouted.

"Coming!" she exclaimed and Ron dropped the fragile plate he held, turning toward her….

"Look at that wanker waffle on about nothing. She can't possibly be interested. That—that was a pity laugh," Ron told Harry as he watched Hermione be chatted up.

"Why don't you go over and stop him them; cut in. Ask her to dance," Harry suggested, but before Ron could really decide whether to make a move, one of Fred and George's friends began making an announcement to the whole party, trying to get a game together. Ron and Harry moved over to listen in as Derek, the twin's friend, began explaining the rules.

"Now this is hardcore truth or dare and if you fail to fulfill the dare or lie for the truth you will be jinxed. So anyone who is too afraid now is the time to run away with your tail between your legs. Ron noticed that Hermione was not deterred by this statement, a fiery look in her eyes as though she was looking forward to the game. He decided to sit this one out and Harry agreed with him….

…. "Truth."

"Alright Denny, in 4th year did you use my toothbrush to scrub the showers after we lost the Ravenclaw Quidditch match?"

"…noo." Seconds later Denny's chest inflated. "Bloody hell! I have…

"A hefty set of knockers," one of the Gryffindor girls giggled.

"You did!" Martin exclaimed. "I knew it. You are so dead!"

"What the—Derek, get them off of me!"

"Sorry mate. You're stuck like that for a few more hours."

"Enjoy them while they last," Fred teased as Denny stalked off.

"Who's turn now?" asked another.

"I'll go. Hermione. Truth or dare?" asked Angelina, eyeing Fred and grinning.

"Again? But I already did that ridiculous dance—"

"I thought you came to play. Are you backing down?" Angelina goaded.

"Never. I was just reminding you I went in case there was some rule about how many times a person goes," she lied, trying not to look scared. "Give me your best shot."

"Here's a nice shot," Derek told her, handing her a shot of whiskey. Hermione took it down in one gulp and then cried out, "Dare," the effects of the whiskey being almost instantaneous.

"I dare you to find the most handsome fella here, walk up to him, and without a word lay a big smooch on him, and then walk away." Angelina looked at her wearing a look of satisfaction. Hermione eyed the group, giving them a very blasé look, as though bored by the dare, before surveying the crowd for her prey. She felt a bit warm and fuzzy, a strange confidence taking hold of her that she knew belonged much too much to all the Firewhiskey that was now invading her bloodstream. She glanced about beginning to get disappointed, but then she saw him walk back into the room, completely oblivious. Hermione winked as she scooted past Fred. She was going to put on a show and drag this out. She walked about the room, sizing the guys up, knowing all along full and well where she was heading. She paused in front of a 7th year Gryffindor, leaned in examining the guy, knowing they were watching her and then pulled away from him, stepping back, shaking her head to the disappointed group of players. She smiled deviously and kept going. Finally she paused in front of Harry and Ron. She turned and threw the players another wicked smile and then turned back to Ron and Harry, who dropped their conversation as soon as she came up to them.

"What's up, Hermione?" Harry asked, giving her a curious look. Hermione just smiled at him, knowing she wasn't supposed to talk. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked, a bit worried. Hermione just shook her head and took a step closer to him. While doing so she heard a collective gasp from the group. Ron turned to see them all staring and became very alert.

"What is this?" He asked, his confusion making him sound almost angry. "Are you lot still playing that bloody game?" he yelled across the room. The group watched as Hermione took a step closer to Harry and Ron watched as their eyes got larger, watching her actions. She then leaned over and fixed his collar with her hand. Ron observed the group look around at eachother in confusion before suddenly redirecting their attention his way. The look on their faces made him suddenly nervous.

"What the—" But his words were cut off as he suddenly felt Hermione's lips crush against his. He opened his eyes wide trying to figure out what was going on. While he was distracted by the group, Hermione had suddenly rounded on him; grabbing his robes she pulled him into her and kissed him hard, not holding much back. She secured one hand to his dress robes while the other fastened itself to his hair. It took a moment for Ron to respond , too stunned to react those first few seconds, but his efforts shortly after certainly made up for it. There were numerous cat-calls and whistles as the two kissed for the first time. Then suddenly Ron felt an absence of Hermione's lips. He opened his eyes to catch a playful smile just as she turned and walked away from him. She didn't look back once as he stared after her in utter confusion.

"What just happened?" he asked Harry, who shrugged and gave him a bewildered look of his own.

*****

Chapter 3 on its way. Please review, thanks


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: sorry just some revisions and a little addition. I'm trying to keep this story fresh and not be necessarily what you'd expect or read before with other similar stories. It's easy to fall into the cliché party story, not that that's bad, but I want to do something new without it being too unrealistic. I will note that Hermione is acting unlike herself which may bug people, but she has to try very hard to do this and keep in mind her actions don't always speak for how she's feeling and her façade can't last forever…anyways, not exactly sure where this is heading, have a few ideas and we'll see which ones play our and how. Thanks for reading, please let me know your thoughts.**

**P.S I'm glad some of you like Fred and George, I love them and think they always add something to the story, so sometimes it takes me forever to write for them because I want to do them some justice, hopefully its enough.**

****

"I didn't think you had it in you," Lee Jordan told Hermione candidly as she rejoined the players. "Nicely done."

Hermione didn't give them the satisfaction of a response to the statement, but rather called on her own victim. Inside her mind was reeling and she fought to conceal her furious heartbeats. She couldn't believe she had done that. It was like she was watching someone else, but the feel of it was too real; it was everything. She also felt untouchable and strangely powerful, having done something she was far too timid to ever try before. But she couldn't think about it now.

"Ginny?" she asked slyly, "Truth or dare?" Ginny looked at her wearily unsure which would be better. She thought she could count on Hermione to take it easy on her if she said truth so she went with that. Only she wasn't counting on this Hermione, who wasn't thinking about consequences or regrets.

"So tell the truth Ginny…" she began strong but then drew a blank. She had been certain Ginny would say dare. "…Umm, who is your idea of the perfect guy?" Ginny looked at her horrorstruck. She knew Hermione knew deep down she was not over Harry in the least and she couldn't believe she just asked her that. Hermione's face fell into a look of guilt realizing what she just did.

"I…well…It would have to be…" Everyone waited for her to answer and she quickly mumbled, "Harry," looking down at her feet. Everyone in the party seemed to stop at that moment looking from Ginny to Dean to Harry. It only took Dean a couple seconds to tear out of there. Ginny threw Hermione a cold look before chasing after him. Both Harry and Ron regained their dumbstruck looks. The game was unceremoniously disbanded after that and Hermione went to sit in a corner feeling terrible for what she did.

"Don't go feeling bad about that. That's the risk you take playing extreme truth or dare," Derek told her, handing her a drink. He slid down on the sofa next to her and scooted close to her. "That was some kiss you laid on the Weasley kid. Think I might get that lucky tonight?"

Hermione tried to hide her panic, as she said coolly, "I don't know, why don't you go ask him, though I should warn you I don't think Ron's that type of girl."

"You're a very clever witch, aren't you? I bet I'll have to keep my eye on you, which I can't complain about. You are absolutely stunning. Where have you been hiding?"

"The library mostly," Hermione mumbled more to herself. She was nervous and wasn't at all interested in this bloke, but she thought if she walked away now it was only reinforce how everyone saw her; how she was beginning to see herself, but she wanted to keep in control as much as possible. _Ugh, I'm such a control freak as well_, she thought frustrated, but she hoped she could conceal that fact. "I feel like dancing. Care to dance?" she asked alluringly. He grabbed her by her hands at once and pushed his way into the middle of the dance floor with her.

"Hermione, can I have a word with you?" Ron suddenly asked, cutting them off, in their path.

"Kind of in the middle of something, Ron," she said in an annoyed tone that she didn't really mean, trying hard to conceal her nerves. She had just kissed him in front of everyone and he had kissed her back, but she had no idea what it meant and her heart fluttered wildly just looking at him now.

"If this is about the kiss, don't think too much of it. She had to do it…for the game," Derek informed him. Ron's face fell instantly, but he added, "This doesn't concern you, Derek," giving him a look like he was about to take him out. "Hermione, why don't we step out and get a bit of fresh air?"

"Are you mad? It's freezing out there," Derek laughed, "Now get stuffed." They left Ron standing there glumly, looking like a guy who just got stood up on prom night.

Hermione felt a bit lightheaded and stumbled into his arms, as he swung her around. Her head fell into his shoulder and he pulled her tight, dancing in a way Hermione was not used to. She fought a blush and tried to keep a cool head. Derek didn't seem to mind the crowd, dancing very close to her and letting his hands roam freely. Hermione was torn. She wanted to slap him for his audaciousness of caressing her bum, but she didn't want to draw a scene, aside from the one where people observed little Miss Hermione Granger dancing with a hot older boy, who the ladies all seemed to swoon over. That would put her in a different light, she thought, and the moment wasn't that big of a sacrifice.

"I could use a drink after all this dancing," she informed him, hinting. The suggestion worked and he left to go grab a couple more drinks for them and then Hermione causally moved to a different part of the Burrow. She was secretly looking for a place to hide out for a little while and accidentally walked in on Harry and Ginny in the middle of a very serious conversation. She embarrassingly excused herself and made a mental note to ask both Harry and Ginny about it later. She didn't feel like going back to the party, especially if she was going to be put back in any other compromising situation, so she began to wander up the stairs. She took a sip from her drink and then questioning what she was doing she looked down at the cup, confused as to where she even got it from. Taking another sip she realized she couldn't do two things at once as she tripped up the stairs, so she sat down and listened to the roaring cluttered noise below. The room was beginning to spin. _Perhaps I outdid it a little_, she thought tiredly.

"If Fred and George could see me now," she said to herself in a defeated tone, closing her eyes as she spoke, her head resting on the banister.

"They'd say you need to get to bed." She looked up to see the twins staring at her. "Come along, then." George told her.

"No. No."

"Nothing funny, we swear. You look like you've had about enough—"

"No, I'm fine. I was just heading back down," she informed them, standing up and wobbling a little. Fred caught her and helped her along, though she told him over and over she didn't need it.

"There you are!" Ron exclaimed when he saw her reach the bottom of the stairs. He strode over in only three steps, an aggravated look covering his face.

"Where have you been? I've been looking all over the damn bloody place for you," he scolded, pausing in front of her and hesitantly folding his arms across his chest to suppress his need to touch her.

"She was with us, Ronnikins."

"You two gits! Don't even let me get started with you!" he shouted, not caring if he was making a scene. Hermione was a bit taken aback.

"Well, I'm going to go rejoin the festivities. You boys feel free to sort things out here," Hermione said sarcastically.

"If you're looking for Derek, you won't find him," said Ron hotly.

Curiously, but not disappointed Hermione asked, "He left?"

"I gave him a couple options and he chose the easy one."

"You told him to leave? Why?"

"Yes, Ron. Why was that?" Fred asked, knowingly.

"That's between me and him." Instead of arguing further, Hermione began to walk away. "Hermione, I think we should talk."

"Now? There is a very loud unruly party going on. The Burrow is packed full of people and you choose now to ask me to finally talk about things? Can't we talk later, when I can actually think straight?"

"Well if you can't even think straight I think it would be a daft idea to go back. For a smart girl you sure aren't acting that—"

"You don't really need to think straight to have a good time, do you? I mean it's a party, Ron. You seem set on being the only one here to not have any fun. I mean what exactly are you worried about me doing? Do you think I'm going to embarrass you?"

"I'm not worried about you embarrassing me. You may think you're having fun now, but you haven't heard what people have been saying about you. I'm just trying to spare you the humiliation _you'll_ be feeling tomorrow when you're not all hopped up on Firewhiskey and Butterbeers."

"Oh and what have people been saying about me?!"

"It's just a lot of talk. You've raised a few eyebrows with your behavior tonight…do you want these guys to get the wrong idea about you?"

"And what idea is that exactly?"

"That you're some slapper type or something. That you're the kind of girl that…that—"

"Well, you know what? I don't want to be the kind of girl that can easily be defined, so if I keep them guessing; all the better."

"So you don't mind if the guys are betting who will be the first one to see you in your knickers by night's end?"

"It's just meaningless boy dribble. Let them talk. They say the same thing about any girl. It's just that tonight's probably the first night any of them recognized I was a girl too. I could flirt if I wanted to. I have prurient thoughts just like anybody else. I can be licentious and provocative—"

"Leave it to Hermione to use such prolific language when she's smashed," Fred commented quickly.

"Prolific, I think she's rubbing off on you. Very nice" added George.

"I see how people see me, like some plain looking, bushy haired, frigid, little miss perfect, who can't let go and act impulsively; be a little reckless. But I'm not perfect you know. I don't care only about being exemplary or proper. You act like I'm going to fall to pieces or become tainted if I'm around a few lewd characters for one night, as though I'm not allowed off this high pedestal you've placed me on."

"You were the one who climbed to the top of that pedestal; looking down at the rest of us like we could just never measure up. I just didn't think you would want anyone knocking you down, let alone yourself. As a friend I was trying to spare you…"

"That's codswallop. I don't look down on you. How could you ever think that—?"

" And as for the rest of them _noticing_ you, trust me, this isn't near the first time they recognized you as a girl or a knock-out...they just knew they could never…"

"Could never what?" she asked suspiciously, noticing Ron's tone.

"Nothing. Forget it. They just knew they would have to answer to me and Harry if they ever tried anything, but do whatever you want. I won't try to get in your way anymore." He stalked off, leaving her feeling a mix of emotions; at the top of her list: frustration.

"Well, that was a fairly good row," commented George.

"Eh, I'd give it a seven," Fred said. "But I better go find Angelina, before some other bloke gets to her and makes a move."

*

"Ron, don't be such a gormy git and go get your girl," George intoned instructions to his younger brother, sneaking up on him. He stared at Hermione who was twirling her hair as her eyes flashed back and forth between Cormac and Seamus.

"You heard her earlier…Anything I say will just provoke another fight. I don't want to fight with her I want to…"

"Sometimes girls say things, not because they necessarily mean them, but more to challenge you and make you get off your ruddy arse. And Hermione is most definitely challenging you."

"But why? I mean why is she putting on such a production tonight? This isn't her at all. She's acting totally mental…She overheard us you know, when we were talking about her. She's upset because we all think of her as this innocent and sweet girl who only cares about books and like she said, being _proper_. I mean I know that's not all she is, believe me. How could I not. I just try not to think about it because it drives me mad. I know she's gorgeous. I know what the guys in our house say and think about her. She has no idea what I put up with everyday with those prats. 'It's always the quiet ones, eh Ron,' they joke. She doesn't have to flaunt it. She doesn't have to make an effort at all, which is part of what's so brilliant about her. She's acting mad right now and it's all our fault for making her feel bad, and tomorrow she going to wish tonight never happened and who is she going to blame? Me of course. She always has to prove a point."

"So, do something about it. Here, you could use this," George said, handing him a cup. "Drink up."

"Thanks," Ron said, taking it down quickly as though it was liquid luck. George gave him a curious smile and Ron looked at him suspiciously.

"What was in the drink, George?" he demanded.

"Don't be angry, Ronny. Fred and I have been working on a potion that can allow you to take back the words you said if you don't like the reaction you get. But you only have 30 seconds to take them back or they stick, so be quick. The way it works is if you say something to someone and you regret it and want to take it back, you just say, 'I take it back,' and it erases the words from the person's memory as though you never said it. Kind of like invisible ink or something along those lines, but with spoken words instead. It only last for a little over an hour, as we've tested it so far, so if you have some things you want to tell Hermione but are too worried about her reaction, now would be the time." Ron stood there giving him a disbelieving look and looking him up and down as though waiting for him to crack or give himself away

"Don't believe me?"

"How could I be sure that would work even if you are telling the truth?"

"Telling the truth?! You don't believe your own brother? Fine, fine…Patricia, could you come over here, please?" George called across the room to an old classmate. "Now when she gets over her tell her something and then say 'I take it back,' and she won't remember a thing," he instructed.

"Er, Hi, Patricia," Ron started awkwardly, not sure what to say. He looked over at George who gave him an encouraging look. "Did you really snog both Oliver Wood and Kenneth Towler after the Yule Ball?" he asked cautiously, waiting for her reaction. She gave George a cold look and opened her mouth as though to shout before Ron shouted out, "I take it back!"

"What's up?" Patricia asked politely, not referencing the last question.

"Oh, um, Blimey, er… I like your dress. Excuse me, I have someone I need to talk to."

"I told you so," George mouthed to Ron over Patricia's shoulder.

"You're sure about this?" He asked George nervously.

"Time's running out, so you better decide quickly," replied George and Ron vanished from sight.

"I can't believe even 6th years know about the Yule Ball incident. It was an easy mistake. It was dark and Kenneth kind of sounds like Oliver," she told George flustered, thinking of the situation. "So what's this all about, anyways? What does your brother think you did to him?"

"He thinks he can tell someone something and take it back afterwards. He's on his way right now to track down the girl of his dreams and spill his heart out to her— with any luck. At the very least this should be incredibly amusing."

"That's terrible. If I had known that, I never would have agreed to play along. You're blatantly embarrassing your brother. What if she rejects him and with all these people here?"

"Well, for his sake, he better get her somewhere quiet," George told her, still grinning at his brilliant plan.

Meanwhile, Ron spotted Hermione flirting with a few of the Gryffindor boys and didn't bother asking her to talk this time, but rather yanked her away midsentence.

"Ron! That was very rude. Where are you dragging me?"

"I don't have time for politeness," he told her helping her with her coat. "Come and take that walk with me."

******

Chapter 4 soon…please review, thanks!


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N okay so before you begin this chapter make sure you went back and read the new ending of the last chapter in case you missed how I sneaked that update in there. Aside from that, Enjoy and please review! thanks**

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"Ron, could you slow down," Hermione asked wearily, her mind a befuddled mess, as Ron practically dragged her through the snow and away from the Burrow. Ron noticed her shortness of breath and let go of her hand at once, pacing a few steps before rounding back on her as though ready to say something important. Hermione gave him a questioning look, waiting for him to start. "Ron, it's rather cold out so if there's something you were planning on saying…"

"Oh, right, I didn't think about…how are your feet?" he asked flustered.

"To be honest, if I could feel much of anything I think they would be freezing," she said, flashing him a dopy grin that reminded him she was more than a little sloshed.

"I...er…" Ron started but now didn't know what to do. All he could think of was being responsible for getting Hermione sick by dragging her all the way out there in the cold. Why didn't he ever think things through? he wondered, furious with himself. Time was running out. He looked down at her feet and frowned, those were not winter attire she had on. "Come here," he told her pulled her so that she was standing on his feet and pressed up against him. She swayed in his arms as he secured his hold on her.

"So you're the boy…" She told him captivatingly, as though she was verifying a fact. Her head tilted close to his, examining his eyes, as she tugged carelessly on his knitted cap.

"I'm the boy, what?" he whispered back.

"The boy with oceans for eyes…" she told him absolutely mesmerized by them. _Perhaps I'll just let her talk_, he thought to himself.

"Oh" he replied lamely, unsure of what to say.

"Did you steal them?" she asked, sounding very alarmed, "…from the seas? Do you wear them just for me?" she laughed at her rhyme and he realized she was teasing.

"You're totally shitefaced, aren't you?" he laughed exasperated, unable to help himself.

"I'm semi-intoxicated," she admitted, "but you can't really talk, can you?"

Ron shrugged. She had him there. "You kissed me," he reminded her, suddenly; Her proximity going to his head. "…why?"

"It was my dare," she told him indifferently.

"But what was the dare, exactly? Go kiss Ron Weasley?"

"No…not exactly. I can't tell you. You didn't play the game, so I'm not supposed to say."

"That isn't really a rule," he challenged. Hermione just shrugged in a 'prove it' kind of way.

"So what are we doing out here?" she asked, glancing around, blowing out cold puffs of air as she spoke. She rocked back and forth on his feet and held tight to his shoulders, balancing herself there. Ron took in a deep breath preparing for his next statement.

"The stars are lovely, aren't they?" she asked him in a dreamy tone, her head gazing upward at the winter sky.

"They're pretty brilliant, but…"

"But what?" she asked incredulously, flashing him another dazzling smile. He waited for her to look him in the eye again.

"But not nearly as lovely as you," he said gently and then held his breath waiting for her reaction. Her smile quickly faded and she looked quite stunned, staring at him blankly. The seconds began to tick into hours as he waited for her to say something.

"Wh—what?" she asked, taken aback, her eyes as big as saucers. Ron panicked and shouted, "I take it back!" For a long moment, neither said anything, nor did either move, as he supported Hermione in his arms. Ron felt a sense of relief. He had panicked but it would be okay. He could try it again, maybe do something this time to gain a better reaction from her; a positive reaction. And this time he would allow her more time to respond.

"You take it back?!" she questioned, both furious and mystified by his words and actions. She forcefully pushed his chest back as she spoke, offended that he could say something so perfect and then tell her immediately he didn't mean it. Ron was taken off guard by both her response and powerful shove, and fell straight back into the snow, like he was planning on making a snow angel. She stood over him with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

"You take it back?!" she questioned again, this time she sounded more confused than angry.

"I'm going to murder George," he mumbled, looking straight up at the star covered sky.

"What does George have to do with anything?" she asked hotly. Ron thought a moment.

"…It's hard to explain…I'm just shitefaced like you said…don't mind me…"

"Of course, I mean why else would you say something like that to me?" she agreed. "Are you going to lie in the snow all night?"

"Yes."

"Ron!"

"What?" he asked stubbornly. Hermione sighed.

"Well, I'm going back inside."

"Smashing. Tell George, he's a bloody git." His tone was full of sarcasm and agitation.

"Why don't you go tell him yourself?" she asked overemphasizing her words.

"I'm good right here."

"Ron!"

"What?" Hermione sighed heavy again as the two feel into the redundant pattern, but instead of fighting with him, she let herself fall back dramatically, surprising Ron as she suddenly lay next to him.

"There _is_ something peaceful and nice about lying back in the snow, looking up at the night sky, but the cold is a touch overrated, if you ask me," she explained to him. Ron turned his head to look at her, his brow furrowing.

"Are you going to tell me why you're sulking, or am I going to freeze to death out here with you?" But Ron didn't answer. Instead he turned back to the sky and continued to stare at it like she hadn't said anything at all, which drove her absolutely mad. "I think my toes are completely numb," she added, as though hinting to him.

"So go inside."

"Yeah—I think I will. Maybe I'll take Cormac up on that offer of his; help warm me up some." He turned to look at her as she considered her words for a moment.

"What exactly did McLaggen offer?" he asked coolly.

"Oh, he just offered me his services if you know what I mean."

"I know what you're trying to do…"

"Or Perhaps I'll just wait under the Mistletoe for the first lucky guy to come along…They say a good kiss is the best way to warm you up."

"You think you're going to get good and kissed by McLaggen? Seamus? Lee—"

"Only one way to find out," she told him, sitting up quick and getting to her feet. "Why not let them try?" Ron followed suit and scrambled to his feet.

"Blimey, Hermione, what is this? Why are you acting so …un-Hermione-like? You've made your point. There's nothing you've got to prove."

"It's not a point. It's a change."

"You can't really want to change yourself like this. That's ridiculous. Why?"

"Because—because being myself wasn't working out. _People_ aren't interested in pretentious unsociable overachievers who place greater value in intelligence than looks and appearances."

"Is that how you see yourself? For a brilliant witch, you really are daft. Don't you have any idea—any idea at all?"

Hermione laughed a hallow laugh, apparently something Ron said was funny to her. "You're just being nice. But when it comes down to it, what kind of girl did you pick yourself, Ron? Someone like me? No, you picked Lavender— the complete embodiment of everything I'm not, so yeah—I can believe whatever I damn well bloody please," she snapped, stalking back towards the Burrow.

*

Hermione ran up the stairs towards Ginny's room, shaking off her wet coat on her way. She threw back the door, agitated, fighting back hot tears, when a shadow startled her.

"Oh—sorry!" she shouted, covering her eyes. It was the second time she walked in on Harry and Ginny that night, but the first time they were indecent. She quickly closed the door and tried to recover her composure. _What am I supposed to do now, I'm dripping wet? _she wondered. Giving another tired sigh, she went to the only place she could think of: Ron's room. She quickly discarded her icy outfit on his floor, and then changed into one of his Chudley ___Cannons_ T-shirts and an old pair of shorts she found in one of his bottom drawers. Something about the room looked different but she couldn't quite place it before she closed the door behind her and headed back down the stairs. Ron met her on the stair and eyed her new outfit.

"Nice shirt," he told her playfully, hoping she wasn't going to stay upset with him. Hermione blushed, looking down at it.

"I couldn't get into Ginny's room, sorry I didn't ask but my clothes were icicles."

"No, it looks better on you…wait, why couldn't you get into Ginny's room?" He asked with an edge in his voice. Hermione just looked at him as though he knew the answer and that she would rather not speak it out loud.

"I'm gonna go change," he mumbled, trying to ignore the realization of what was going on up there.

When Ron came back down he realized the party had died down significantly. There were only a few left, sitting in a circle near the fire; Hermione was among the stragglers.

"Oh good, another addition. This group was beginning to die out fast," Fred exclaimed.

"What are you playing?"

"See it goes like this: we go around the group and say a word to represent the 'chosen one', get it, like Harry?" Fred laughed. "You start with A and work your way to Z. If you miss a letter you have to take a drink. If the group decides your word doesn't fit the 'chosen one', then you have to take a drink. Make sense?"

"I think so."

"For example George is the chosen one right now and we're on P—"

"Prat," Ron called out; everyone laughed.

"Very good but you must wait your turn," George encouraged handing him a mug of Butterbeer….

"Zanny?" George cried on in mock surprise, "Me?"

"Okay, who do you chose George?" asked Lee Jordon.

"I'm going to go with Hermione. Hermione, you are the chosen one. I'll begin…A—Aces, because I think Hermione is aces."

"B," said Angelina, "Bookish…" Hermione grimaced a little at the word as though it was tainted.

"C…" said, Eddie, C is for cute and you're definitely that." Ron was next and his mind reeled for something that started with a d, something that could let Hermione know just how brilliant and perfect he thought she was, just the way she was and has always been.

"You're turn, Ronny. What do you have for d?" asked Fred.

_Dreamy, a dish, daring, delicious, dazzling, dainty, deep, dramatic, dear, determined, delicate, divine…_

"Disarming," he stated fervently, giving her a meaningful stare.

"Yes, she does have a way with a wand. Remember when he bested you in the room of requirements?" McLaggen laughed.

"In every way…Hermione is disarming in every way," he replied seriously, not to be put off.

"Embarrassed?" Fred added to the list, taking note of Hermione's ever reddening face.

" Fancied," George stated, taking it a step further.

"Going, going, gone," Eddie commented comically, as Hermione hastily got up and ran from the room.

"Hermione, wait up," Ron shouted after her.

*********

New chapter soon. Please review of course!


	5. Chapter 5

"Hermione...?" Ron called, trailing her up the stairs, only to have the bathroom door slammed in his face.

"Go...away Ron," she barked, her voice muffled behind the thick wooden door. Ron knocked gently, hoping to coax her out of there through apology.

"I'm sorry about the game...about what I said, if it embarassed you or bothered you...Hermione???" he called her name with a little more panic as she made wretching sounds inside. "Are you alright?" he tried again and this time she answered.

"Just go back downstairs. I'll be fine. Out in a ji--jiff--Huuuugh!" she made another awful noise, unable to continue.

"I'm coming in...I'm coming in so if you're, er, undecent, let me know," he said, cracking the door.

"No, Ron. Don't come in," she protested and he hesitated on whether to listen to her or not. He heard an odd thud and pushed the door open completely, alarmed. He stepped inside blindly, covering his eyes with one of his hands and said, "I'm opening my eyes now..."

Ron looked about to find Hermione laying down against the cool bathroom tile, her eyes closed, faced towards the ceiling. She was still mumbling for him not to see her like that.

"Hermione, you need to get up."

"I'm up," she suddenly replied half asleep, jerking her head up, as though she just resurfaced from under water, before dropping it again, her eyes closing immediately. Ron crouched down and lifted her into his arms, where she hung like dead weight as he tried to get a good hold of her.

"Sorry for running out, I suddenly felt just awful--"

"Big surprise there," Ron cut in with a soft chuckle. He noticed he was sort of swaying with Hermione in his arms.

"I didn't even get to hear what you thought of me...you should have gone with disasterous," she laughed into his ear, the tingling sensation of which went all the way down to his toes and back up again.

"What do you mean...you didn't hear any of that, then?"

"Hmmmm..."

"Oh, nothing."

"I think I need to lie down. I don't think the room should still be spinning when I close my eyes."

"I don't think the room spinning is ever a good thing," he couldn't help smurk.

"Ha, Ha," she responded dryly, letting her head fall back so she could take in his boyish grin.

"I'll help you to your room."

"Ugh, no good. My room is not safe territories right now. I've already walked in on those two twice, lets not try for three."

"Oh,er, well...my room it is." He put his arm around her and tried to help her along, but within her first step she tried to face-plant it in the ground and he had to grab her quickly before she got hurt.

"I can't feel my legs...that's bad right...you would tell me if they somehow got away from me, right?"

He laughed at her absurdity and without giving her a warning, swiftly lifted her up into his arms so he was cradling her, and began to walk to his bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Ron carried Hermione into his room with ease. He was right where he wanted to be and the moment felt like part of a dream. It seemed a lifetime ago since the night began and for a moment he had to wonder if he were in fact asleep. He was happy to discover that neither he nor Hermione had nodded off to dreamland as he placed her gently on his bed. She blinked up at him as he hovered over her, his arm trapped beneath her.

"Hermione…" he said softly, but found it hard to get any more words out, her close proximity to his face the cause for his hesitation. He knew in his mind that he should move, roll over so he was beside her instead, but he couldn't seem to follow what his brain wanted him to do. "…You're on my arm…can-could you…"

"Oh, right," she replied, catching on easily. She leaned forward, wrapping herself around Ron, allowing him to pull his arm away. But Ron was unable to move at all, Hermione's actions causing him to even forget to breathe momentarily. After a few seconds, Ron's brain caught up and he remembered to breathe again and removed his arm, just as Hermione let go and dropped back down on the pillow. The scent of her hair continued to linger in his wake, doing him in completely.

"You're free," she said to him playfully, but he didn't miss the sad tone or troubled look in her eyes as she said it, the deeper meaning not lost on either of them. She turned away from him and stared out the window, trying to distract herself. Ron didn't move, nor did he know what to say, or more so, he wasn't sure he could speak. It was as though the weight of each word rolling around in his mind were a thousand pounds and weighing his tongue down. They both stayed quiet for a minute, Ron felt like the moment was slipping away and he didn't know how to get it back. He looked down at her, and though it thrilled him when she stared into his eyes, her gazing off allowed him to really take her in, without feeling self conscious. He hadn't realized until he looked that he hadn't yet moved; his arms laid on either side of her body, his body leaning close to her, but not pressed against. His left arm was brushing against her hip and the awareness of this only heightened his fever.

"…It feels like a hundred years since this morning, doesn't it?" she suddenly asked, curiously, still gazing out the window. Her words echoed Ron's thoughts from when he first entered his room. He nodded, but wasn't sure if she caught it, so he added a grunting confirmation; He didn't know what to say about it, mostly because he didn't know what to make of it. It was definitely one of the most peculiar nights of his life. Thinking back on certain pointed moments, he began to get worked up again.

"I almost don't know who I'll be when I wake up," she added thoughtfully.

"You'll be yourself. Hermione Jean Granger," he replied rather seriously.

"You make it sound so easy, like people are this one-dimensional thing, like-like broomsticks or bookshelves…why should we try so hard to confine ourselves to what other people expect us to be…especially when they seem so displeased with who you are. It's like they wish you were something else, but as soon as you make a go at changing they become upset. Not because they're concerned about you, but because then they have to be bothered to now reassess their opinion of you, just so everyone can come to some concise unanimous assumption of what you are…" when she was done speaking, she was out of breath.

"Why are you suddenly concerned about what anyone thinks about you? You never let it bother you before. Who cares if ..where is all this coming from? You should just be who you are and not change to fit what others think is fitting, or change just for the sake of changing. Why would you even want to when you're so amazing just as you are?! You're really starting…you're really starting to piss me off ,you know that?!" As he finished he shifted away from her, his cold shoulder really driving in his point. Hermione stared at his back in utter shock, trying to make sense of his sudden outburst. Ron expected his words to meet even heavier, harsher sentiments from Hermione, but after a long pause of silence, he wished he hadn't turned away so he could at least read her face. He wondered what she looked like and hoped he hadn't made her cry. Instead of seething and continuing to be angry, he tried to figure out how they got to this point. He thought about their similar conversation in the snow and a thought clicked. At the same moment, as though she could read his mind, Ron felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder.

"Hey…" she said gently, causing his heart to stutter. She was silent for a moment, and though Ron couldn't see her, he knew she wasn't done yet. He understood that she just needed a moment to figure out how to say whatever it was that was on her mind.

"…It's kind of funny because I was actually trying to do the complete opposite of that. I guess I just can't get it right," she said as though these words were simply an afterthought.

Ron took a deep breath, before slowly turning to face her, an important question pressing on his lips.

"Hermione, when you said that thing earlier about _People_ not being interested in pretentious unsociable overachievers…and all that…were you talking about all people or one person in particular?" He asked, remembering clearly the bit where she told him what kind of girl he had chosen for himself. Because what he hasn't made clear to her out in the snow was that Lavender was not, and never could be, the girl he had chosen for himself. Lavender just sort of happened. The truth that she had so clearly missed was that she was the girl, the only girl, he had chosen for himself.


	7. Chapter 7

"Did I say that…I guess that does sound like something I would say," Hermione replied casually, avoiding the issue as much as she could.

Ron saw right through this and in a determined voice said, "You know you did…So did you? Have someone in mind when you said that?"

Hermione didn't like the direction the conversation was going or the fact that Ron was somehow gaining the upper hand. Deliberately she sighed loudly, hoping that it would be enough to make Ron stumble. And in fact he did take it as a bad sign, but it wouldn't be enough to deter him. He wanted her to be honest and open with him but it was like he could physically see the walls going up around her; her self-preservation kicking in again. She was so good at hiding and keeping things from him and all he wanted was for her to let him in. It was a miracle he knew her as well as he did, he thought to himself, almost causing him to chuckle out loud. A sobering thought hit him before any laughter could escape, he remembered how much he, himself, shut Hermione out, and realized he was being more than hypocritical. If anything he had made it nearly impossible for Hermione to ever suspect he fancied her. He had done it for his own self-preservation; to keep the trio together, to keep Fred and George from taking the mickey out of him, fear of rejection, and, well, simply fear of the unknown. But it was only that he had just really begun realizing himself what he wanted and what it was he was feeling. Before he couldn't place his anger or name his jealousy. He had been in denial of his feelings and even his dreaming about her, and it was a hard blow when he was able to verbalize what it was he was feeling. Now it felt like this feeling was crushing him every day and he needed to get it out…the only problem was he had no idea how to pull this off.

It was too much.

"So…" he repeated, sounding somewhat huffy himself. "And not thinking about it now, when you said it, who were you picturing?" he added, so she couldn't work a way around the question.

"I was thinking of…well…I guess I was thinking of you, but only because you were the one there…not necessarily because…I mean you were the one arguing with me so of course I…" She was clearly flustered, dropping her irritated stance as she tried to answer without being transparent. She still refused his gaze, as she continued to stare out the window, focusing on the crescent moon. She willed herself to look him in the eyes, but all she saw was the moon.

"Arguing? How about just trying to make you see reason? Which usually you're so good at."

"So you think I was way off base, tonight?"

"…I think…there were parts of tonight that will forever leave me baffled…but then again there were certain good parts in all the madness. One comes to mind," he explained slowly, blushing at the end. "But you're avoiding the question again. You said being yourself wasn't working out…and you said 'people' weren't interested and now you say 'people' was referring to me, so are you saying you were trying to change because you wanted me to be interested?"

"What? No? I mean…that's not what I said exactly…This—this isn't fair…you're taking advantage of me because of the state I'm in. I can't think straight…I…"

Her head turned reflexively in his direction as she spoke but she was careful to shield her eyes behind her hair, and hoped it also hid the small semblance of a smile. For a second all she could concentrate on was the feel of Ron's arm pressed up against her leg. She almost missed the next few words he spoke, but her brain quickly caught up.

"Hermione, of all the ways I've image taking advantage of you tonight…THAT one is the furthest from my mind, to be perfectly honest," his lips too were moving faster than his brain and he couldn't help but smirk with nervous energy as he confessed.

"So, you've been trying to take advantage of me all night" she asked, feigning disbelief. She smiled back at him, finally taking in his blue eyes.

"Hey, you were the one who kissed me, remember?" He squeezed her shoulder playfully and then let his hand skim down her arm carelessly. It came to rest on her forearm. She wondered if he was aware of his thumb rubbing circles on her delicate skin. It was getting hard to breathe, she thought.

"I was playing a game. It was just a game." She replied, softly.

"Can we finally stop playing, then?" He gripped her arm as though he were afraid she was going to get up and run. His intensity made her heart stutter; she had not been expecting it.

"Is that what we're doing? Playing a game?" It was a clumsy question.

She sat up, tucking her knees beneath her. Ron focused on the way she bit her bottom lip, waiting for his reply. Instead of answering it directly, he slightly changed tactics. There were things she needed to understand, he decided.

" I don't want you to be anyone else, 'Mione. I know I…give you a hard time and gripe about things you say and do, but it isn't because I dislike those things about you. That couldn't be further from the truth. I think it's because --aside from the fact of thinking I will never measure up to your standards-- I think I act the way I do because I don't know how to show you that I notice all these things about you, without being, well, obvious. I love how serious you take things and how you always have an answer, and how you're so stubborn once you decide on something, and how you force me to be a better person…"

Hermione stared at him, her mind dizzy. She stayed very still, afraid he would stop talking and she needed to hear him talk, but he cut himself off suddenly and Hermione instinctively leaned forward. She fell slightly into him, her hand pushing back against his chest to right herself.

"You were wrong, you know…" He said seriously, placing his own hand over hers, keeping her hand still. His other hand loved to tilt her face, so he could see her eyes clearly. "...but it was my fault. Because part of me wanted you to believe it. It was easier, I guess. And I let things get so twisted up you came to believe I wasn't interested;That I wanted something, someone, else. But Hermione... there. is. no. one. I would _ever _choose over you. I've been so stupid. So yes, I guess I've been, inadvertently that is, playing a game, but I'm starting to realize I'm not close to winning. In fact, I would think if I don't make a move soon, I may be out of the game all together. I don't want to lose you. I can't. And after a night like this, I don't think we can go back to the way things were before, so where does this leave us?" It was silent for a long moment, as they both thought the question over. They could faintly hear the sound of voices and moving furniture from below. The silence was becoming unbearable; someone had to say something.

"What if…?"

"What, what is it?" He asked, anxiously. He began playing with her hand again.

"What if it's not like this in the morning? What if you wake up tomorrow and wish you hadn't said the things you said, or may say…is this the firewhiskey talking, or the excitement of the night? What if --?"

Ron couldn't help but laugh. Was she for real? he questioned. Of course he wanted her.

"You're laughing at me?!" she was troubled, yet bemused.

"Just at your preposterous line of thinking. I'm not going to change my mind. This feeling isn't going to vanish come sunup. I mean for me, anyways. If you don't feel the same way as I do,if it turns out you don't really feel the same, don't feel the need to protect me or let me down easy…if you don't, then don't…"

"I kissed you, didn't I?"

"Sure, but you were playing truth or dare…it wasn't of your own free will."

"True, I mean the dare was just to kiss the most handsome guy there. I guess that's omitting a lot of other things I feel about you…So if it was truth I picked and the question was who do you want to be with more than anyone else in the whole world—"

"Don't say Krum," Ron laughed, out of nervousness.

"Ruh-on!"

"Sorry, I'm just…nervous I guess."

"This is a bit strange, isn't it? It's going to take some getting used to I think."

"So, you really want to be with me?" He had to ask. He needed conformation, after interrupting her before.

"Depends. Are you asking me to be your girl, Ron Weasley?" She asked, coyly with a grin.

"If I had known all I had to do was ask, this question would have come a long time ago."

"Was that you asking me?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. Ron sighed.

"Hermione, please be my girl. It would honor me greatly if you were to accept my offer. What lengths must I go to, what Death Eater must I take on???"

". A bit of an oversell, but I'll take it.:

"Is that a yes?" He asked, now raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, Ronald I would love to be your girl."

"Really?" he asked excitedly. She nodded her head, laughing at his enthusiasm.

"Hmmm, now if there was only some way to finalize this moment, some sort of gesture, if you will, to top off the night, a way, without words that really conveys our new status in our relationship," he teased. Hermione smacked him playfully across the chest. Ron grabbed her hand before she could pull it away.

"Not quite the gesture I was hoping for…" He smiled, leaning closer. And then they were kissing, and the rest of the world was lost to them.

********

**** new/ last? chapter coming soon....thoughts???? reviews???


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